


Mirrors

by thinlizzy2



Category: Marvel (Comics), New Mutants
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows that she doesn't even stand a chance.  Not with HER.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hhertzof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhertzof/gifts).



**She watches her from across the room. She is half terrified that the other girl will feel the weight of her gaze and look up and half exhilarated by that very same possibility. She hates herself for feeling like this, but even more than that she hates the girl on the other side of the room for making her feel like this. No, it’s more than hate; she _loathes_ her. **

**Almost as much as she loves her.**

She’s not even pretty, Illyana thinks. Although that’s not strictly true. Rahne might not be a typical beauty, but something about her combination of copper hair, wolf-bright eyes and frequently blushing cheeks does something to her that she can’t quite explain. It’s like every part of Rahne that could possibly be brightly coloured is just that. Illyana lived in darkness for much too long, and such vivid colours fascinate her. And then there’s that body; the way she tries so hard to hide her curves makes them all the more obvious. She doesn’t understand how Sam can just ignore the looks Rahne gives him, her infuriating puppy-dog devotion to their team leader. Is it possible that she might be the only person unfortunate enough to be affected by Rahne like this? She groans at the thought and buries her face in her magazine again. That would be just her luck - another way that she’s cursed.

_She’s so beautiful, Rahne reflects. Illyana has the kind of beauty that fills the pages of glossy magazines and that people pay money to look at in the movies. She’s never seen Illyana with a hair out of place or a single pimple disrupting the perfect expanse of her skin. Just thinking of Illyana’s skin makes her blush and she tries to refocus her attention on her book, but it’s already far too late. She just can’t help wondering if Illyana is that fair and unblemished all over her body, that perfect body as long and straight as the soul-sword she’s capable of drawing out of it. She knows she not the only one who can’t help wanting Illyana. Every time they go into the city centre pretty much every boy and more than a few girls openly stare at her. But knowing she’s not alone doesn’t make Rahne feel any less cursed._

Why does it have to be Rahne, of all people, Illyana wonders for what feels like the millionth time. She’s not stupid; she knows she has options. She could go into town and sit at a cafe - it wouldn’t be long before some townie would be offering to pay for her mochachino. If, for some reason, she wants a relationship with a teammate, she’s pretty damn sure that Roberto would be more than up for it. And if it’s a girl she needs (and judging by the way Rahne’s chest - quickly rising and falling under her bulky sweater like she’s agitated for some reason - is affecting her, she’s pretty damn sure it’s a girl she needs) why the hell did she pick this one? She glances at Kitty, humming along with the theme song blaring from the television. Kitty at least **likes** her; she enjoys Illyana’s company. But no, Illyana had to fall for the one person at school who hates and fears her as much as any mutant-phobic asshole outsider. But no matter how much Illyana tries, and tries to pretend, she knows she could never hate Rahne back.

_It’s the wickedness in her, Rahne knows, that made her choose Illyana to focus her attention on. Reverend Craig was right about her, but the corruption goes far deeper than even he could have guessed. Illyana is a witch, a sorceress, the very kind of temptress her foster father used to warn everyone about from the pulpit every Sunday. She remembers how he used to remind the congregation that the devil takes pleasing forms; one more irresistible glance at Illyana confirms that Rahne finds her form very pleasing indeed. She wrenches her eyes away from the Russian girl and forces herself to focus them on Sam. He’s attractive; Rahne knows that objectively. And more than that he’s **good**. Sam Guthrie is solid and strong and straight as an arrow. Sometimes Rahne lets herself believe that if he’d just notice her then he could save her. She could be his girlfriend and his partner. She could be his rib, as the reverend used to say. But honestly, she knows even Sam wouldn’t be enough. No matter how much she pretends, she knows she’ll always want Illyana._

And she’s only a kid! It’s hard not to think of Rahne like that even though Illyana knows the age difference between them is actually pretty negligible. What are they, two years apart? Maybe closer to eighteen months? But that puppy-fat-chubby face and those huge round eyes of hers are somehow reminiscent of a Disney template of a young girl. And it doesn’t stop at the physical. Rahne’s got this weird aura of naivete and nerves; it’s way too easy to imagine her cowering behind Moira MacTaggert’s skirts. Maybe that’s why it still thrills Illyana when she sees Rahne transform; her blood heats up every single time she sees the innocent school girl disappear and the wolf come out to play. But she responds the same way when it’s the wolf who vanishes and little Rahney returns. So while she wishes she could just say that the demon in her is drawn to the wolf in Rahne, she knows the real truth. Illyana wants every bit of Rahne -the wolf and the girl - with all that she is.

_And to make matters worse, a part of her still thinks of Illyana as a child. It’s so hard to reconcile the smiling little girl Illyana used to be, the one who was carried around in her big brother’s arms like a miniature princess, with the stunning woman she became in just a few Earth minutes. She doesn’t want anyone to know the way she thinks about Illyana; the very thought is mortifying. But the idea of Peter knowing how she feels about his “little Snowflake” is a particular kind of terrible. Logically, she knows the Illyana who exists now is a teenager, a couple of years older than Rahne herself. Infinitely wiser too - Illyana has endured the very torments of Hell that Rahne is so desperate to avoid. Sometimes she tells herself that’s the whole appeal. Maybe she’s just drawn to Illyana because she represents the possibility of surviving her own worst fears. But when she’s entirely honest with herself, she knows that’s not really true. The truth is that she just craves Illyana and she’s scared she always will._

Maybe Rahne senses the intensity of Illyana’s gaze, because she looks over. Illyana jerks as if she’s been pinched, and then she panics. Angry and embarrassed, she glares at Rahne. The other girl blushes deliciously and drops her eyes back to the thick book she's been reading. Illyana curses internally. She doesn’t know why she does that; she’s always snapping at Rahne. She can tell herself that Rahne’s prudish or that she’s scared by Illyana’s demonic background - all of that is true. But she knows it’s also at least partially her fault that Rahne hates her. If she could just manage to be nice, then it’s possible that they could be friends. That wouldn’t be much, but it would be more than they have now. But Rahne just gets to her too much; if she can’t have love then she’ll settle for some kind of strong reaction. She sighs and closes her magazine. The whole situation is just too fucking depressing; she can’t take any more tonight. She heads towards her room, hoping that she’ll find some kind of relief in sleep.

_Rahne can’t resist one more look at Illyana, but it turns out to be one too many. The blonde girl catches her in the act and her reaction is devastating. The flash of anger in those icy blue eyes of hers and the sneering curl of her lip are like a slap to the face. For a terrifying moment, Rahne is certain that she knows. She calms herself by remembering the sad truth; Illyana doesn’t need to suspect the truth in order to hate her. From the very moment Illyana joined the team, the two of them have clashed. She wishes she hadn’t been so intimidated by her at the first, so clearly frightened. Then perhaps, they could have been close in some unsatisfying but possibly adequate way. But it’s far too late now. Illyana suddenly stands and leaves the room, and Rahne’s heart sinks still further. Somehow, she’s annoyed her enough to make her leave. She stands to go herself. With no Illyana to look at, she might as well just go to sleep._

**She lies in bed, restless and unsatisfied. It’s been a miserable night, and tomorrow promises nothing better. Normally, she would blame the object of her affections for her unhappiness;the other girl is to blame for being so aloof, so indifferent, so unattainable. But alone in the dark, she admits the truth. It’s all her own fault, for falling for someone she has nothing in common with. Someone who barely even knows she exists.**

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hhertzof for the Rare Women Fanfic Exchange
> 
> Thanks to T for the beta work!


End file.
